Maundy Thursday

Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green

The hour has come. The Gospel first talked about ‘the hour’ in chapter 2, way back at the wedding in Cana of Galilee, celebrated in January’s Epiphany season. The hour is now here. The familiar drama begins; We are transported to the upper room, on the first steps of the via dolorosa – the way of the cross.

There’s an inevitability to the Passion in John’s Gospel. It’s like a Shakespearean tragedy, where we know that everyone’s going to end up dead; And like Juliet, like Macbeth, they mostly premeditate it with a certain horror. But for Christ it is glory. Glory because it’s the revelation of God; the meaning of the world laid bare; the demonstration of the highest principle of human living; It is philosophy, theology and ethics; of God and men: love. The reason for creation;  The force that maintains it;  that moves the sun and other stars. The means by which the created can be like its creator. But love is a terribly wishy-washy term. It’s flung about in soap operas; And even more dramatically in operas; Reduced to a feeling;  To ‘being in love’ sentimentalised in a song – ‘you must remember this’; bent out of shape by lust.

And so Jesus gives us pictures: Parables of seeds and pearls – to show how precious love is and how it grows; Parables of sheep, coins, debtors and a prodigal son, to show how it forgives all and will stop at nothing; Parables of Samaritans, and the very rich and poor, to show that it surprises, that it cares for, that it goes the extra mile.

But if a picture is worth a thousand words, an action is worth a hundred parables. And so in the washing of the disciples feet, Jesus demonstrates how we should love those closest to us. ‘Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.’ To the end meaning both in time – while he still lived; And to the utmost – as much as a person can love. He loved them to the end…

It can be harder to love – and show one’s love – for those closest to us. Love in families and very close friendships is usually complicated. Despite, or rather because of, the strength of feeling, the history, we’re more likely to be negotiating, to make demands, to expect a return on the time and energy invested in love. We should love our wives, our children, so much more than little known acquaintances; And yet we might forgive strangers for not thanking us, for some slight, where our wrath for our most loved would know no forgiveness for the same small crime. Love can be tyrannous where it ought to be most generous.

So Jesus demonstrates this foot-washing, as the act which has most dignity in the kingdom of heaven; And so it is that the king stoops to wash the feet of the lowly fishermen. Foot-washing is under the covid-ban this year and secretly I think a lot of people will be terribly glad. It’s a minority that don’t feel uncomfortable during it. But ask yourself this – would you rather be washing feet or having your feet washed?

Having a baby and a dog, menial and servile tasks are a way of life. Rare is the hour when I’m not cleaning up after someone. And if I get too high and mighty there is she who must be obeyed to serve, honour and adore. Washing feet would not make me uncomfortable. Bath-time with Oberon is much more perilous.

But like Simon, I’m more uncomfortable being washed. And the Gospel teaches that we begin not by giving but by receiving. ‘Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.’ Are we willing to accept help? To allow others to minister to us?

We shave seen this a little in our efforts over the last year. Some people who have in their lives gained the resources to be completely independent have needed help – and found it uncomfortable. And when we sent soup and cake out, it became clear that many didn’t like the experience of what they perceived as receiving charity. Even though the volunteers have all been delighted to help, and one told me that delivering soup was the highlight of her week. To admit vulnerability, need, weakness, can be galling; And even the sense of some co-dependence, an inference that we might not be in masters of our fate, many find alarming and resist, even to their detriment. There is a powerlessness in being served. Still others will have thought that they don’t deserve it, that others have a greater need.

This difficulty with being served may be especially true with God. We want God to be majestic, an object of praise and glory; Powerful, immaculate, perfect. At a distance. The old Archbishop William Temple related that: ‘We may be ready to be humble with God, but are we ready for God to be humble with us?’ Can we worship the God in the manger, the servant who washes feet, the crucified? Can we make the shift from pity to veneration? Christianity may engage our wonder at the fragility and vulnerability of birth and children at Christmas and our desire for justice and compassion in Holy Week, but has it converted us to find God there? Or are we still looking for celestial crown jewels and glory?

Christianity requires a total overhaul of our values. And we need reminding of this time and again. Because the world constantly reinforces its values:  That worth is found in wealth, beauty, control, influence, prestige, recognition; And especially in having people work for you;  Being in command. This is how the world is structured and organised. Even within the Church there are bishops and Archdeacons and those who must be obeyed.

And yet the values of the kingdom of God are the opposite. Would Jesus have made it to bishop or archbishop?

The king of heaven calls these fishermen friends. It is he who washes their feet. He’s demonstrating another way of being in the world. And it’s more than service. Service can be done with pride and condescension. There are many who give their lives to public service, who we can’t imagine genuinely washing feet. Humility begins in receiving from others. It encourages others by taking value and recognition in their giving to us. And so it puts others first. It does not seek recognition but calls attention to the value of the people around us.

We might think of this as a levelling up. Which is what we also have expressed in the last supper. We share in the broken body of Christ. We are united in this body as equals. And it is the love that is demonstrated for all time, we are called to see, to point out, to give thanks for, to adore; The love that begins by washing feet and culminates in suffering sacrifice. The same love we are now asked to have for one another.

Jesus has spent his ministry preaching love, telling stories, healing and helping to demonstrate that God is with them. In these last days it is these actions, washing feet, sharing supper, And finally being lifted up from this world, In which God is revealed as serving, sacrificial love in perfect humility. It is the example we are to follow, the hidden meaning of the world, and the object of our worship.  The hour has come. Amen.